


your waitress was miserable, and so was your food

by glowingmongrel



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, autistic ryder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 14:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16599482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingmongrel/pseuds/glowingmongrel
Summary: Benji Ryder was never good at seeing the warning signs that something wasn't going to go well.





	your waitress was miserable, and so was your food

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna know what Benji looks like, [here's some screenshots!](http://weirbeast.tumblr.com/post/179258355026/please-support-hauntedchantries-vaelsmod) and there's an illustration in this fic to show how i draw him :)
> 
> fair warning this was written pretty quickly and is largely unedited because i did it as a break from working on my big fat dragon age fic, so apologies for any mistakes. andromeda is also the only mass effect game i've played, so there might be lore whoopsies in there, but i tried to avoid anything that'd cause that. i also hc my Ryder twins as autistic like myself so i try to incorporate little things i and my wife have experienced into that characterization. hopefully that communicates well enough!

The first time Benji Ryder had ever been to a bar, he ordered for himself and Billie while she sat silently, tucked into a booth towards the back of the building. He waited until he was three drinks in and the overwhelming barrage of stimuli was dulled by that static-electricity feeling he got when he was buzzed and then he felt comfortable enough to get up and socialize on the dance floor. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to meet people, quite the contrary - he loved socializing, but he wasn’t exactly _good_ at it, and things far too often got too loud and too busy for him to remember his words. Things got disorienting.

He’d looked ridiculous in a baggy t-shirt and cargo shorts and probably made a massive ass of himself, but he told strangers it was his (and his sister’s) twenty-first birthday and been briefly adopted by a cluster of friends, all slightly older than him.

He went home with a handsome turian and Billie stayed at the bar, tucked into her corner

alone, until the place closed and made her leave. A few texts later and Benji’s drunken hookup was interrupted by a phone argument with Billie the ended in both of them crying and the turian awkwardly driving Benji to retrieve his sister. He left them both there, outside the bar, to wait for a cab shuttle to take them home. It was the closest Benji had come to losing his virginity, so far.

It was a hot mess of a birthday party, but by the end of it they were leaning on one another and singing some dumb song and having a laugh, once the tears calmed, about how awkward they’d both been.

Benji deeply wished Billie was here now. The bar was called….something or other, someone’s Song. It was the exact kind of dive he had been warned about, only this time it wasn’t the comfort of being a _gay_ bar. The only thing really making him feel safe was Drack sitting in a corner, ostensibly drinking and relaxing, but Benji knew it was to watch his back.

The asari bartender was harsh but watching her threaten a krogan over a bar tab made him actually feel a little better, like she’d keep things civil in here at least. Civil-ish.

He was standing stiff and awkward, he knew it, so he probably wasn’t doing the whole clandestine-meeting thing right, but that could easily describe his entire Pathfinder career.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

The voice startled him slightly and the man who had spoken leaned against the bar. Without a word, the bartender brought him two cups and stalked off like she’d been waiting to do this for a bit too long for her liking.

Benji wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to actually _answer_ this guy or what but about halfway through him thinking it over, the man held out one of the cups to him with a light smile. Benji really, really shouldn’t have been accepting drinks from strangers on a mission but, well. Handsome strangers approaching him wasn’t….especially common, and it wasn’t like Benji was exactly swimming in attention currently.

_(Sorry, guys aren’t my thing. But good to know I’m universal.)_

_(Your eyes have such fire, Peebee. It’s thrilling.)_

_(And Cora-)_

Benji slipped when he leaned on the bar but he caught himself and tried to make it look like he was only getting comfortable, or something. The smoothest thing he managed to let tumble out of his mouth was:

“I--hi, hey. I have got time for a drink. Do you want...one?”

The man raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop smiling at him.

“I think I’m offering _you_ one.”

Benji’s face felt like it was on fire but he covered his embarrassment with a laugh and took the cup. He didn’t even know what it was he was about to drink, but...might as well live a little.

“Yeah, uh. Thanks.”

The stranger held his cup out towards Benji’s expectantly. Benji knocked his against the other with a satisfying sound. He cautiously drank what ended up being whiskey and it took all his resolve not to cough when it caught him off guard.

“Shena. But you can call me Reyes. I hate code names.”

\--

Benji didn’t even know what to do with himself after the meeting at the bar. His shoulder still felt warm from where Reyes leaned against him and told him a bunch of boring, important things with his nice voice and charming demeanor. He’d winked at Benji instead of leaving a contact number, left without paying for the drinks, and disappeared into the crowds of Kadara. A quick, casual, and slightly rude meeting. One that somehow still left Benji unable to keep from smiling, warmth blooming in his chest.

The second time he met Reyes, he was standing outside, casually leaned up against some large structure, like he’d been waiting there the whole time while Benji went in alone to confront Sloane Kelly (by all accounts someone he never wanted to piss off again) and offered him that same smile.

“Have a nice chat?” Reyes asked, amusement impossible to hide.

“No,” Benji said, a little wide-eyed, “I tried to be more...I dunno, Pathfinder-y? Her guard pulled a gun on me.”

Reyes chuckled and leaned back. Winked at Benji again. “Don’t worry yourself. I found a workaround.”

 _[Pathfinder, your heart rate has increased.]_ SAM noted in Benji’s head. It couldn’t have been enough to be a real medical concern, so he had to assume SAM was getting the hang of the concept of fucking with somebody.

“Oh, thanks,” Benji answered, “I, um. Guess I should ask if there’s strings attached?”

Reyes shrugged and stepped closer, into Benji’s space. “Not any new ones.”

He provided Benji with something or other to eat through the bars of Vehn Terev’s cell and Benji pretended he was able to truly focus on that with Reyes leaning in so close.

When Reyes was finished sending him the codes to some maintenance shaft around a corner, Benji figured out something to say.

“So there’s still that bill you left me with,” he said, hoping to make it clear he was teasing, “You said you were buying me a drink.”

“I’m usually the _model_ gentleman,” Reyes replied.

“Really? I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Because I’m lying.”

Arguably that was one of many red flags Benji should have heeded, but then Reyes leaned in again and told him:

“When you’re done, come to Tartarus. First round’s on me. I _promise._ ”

He said it almost hopefully, an earnest tone that wasn’t there before but damn if it didn’t cut right through the modicum of caution Benji had. A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Billie told him, ‘You’re getting yourself into serious trouble with a guy like that.’

\--

Tartarus, as it turned out, was a _worse_ dive bar with significantly more cage dancers, and Reyes mostly spent their time talking about Pathfinder business. It bothered Benji slightly but it was just kind of nice to spend time with him. Someone who at least wanted to throw him a bone. It was stupid, but nicer than being rejected by Liam “No Shirt Or Personal Space” Kosta or listening to Jaal hand out flowery compliments like candy to all the girls.

Lexi once asked him, politely of course, if he had any interest in Gil. Which he didn’t, beyond being friends. Sitting in the engine room, complaining about how depressingly straight the men on their ship seemed to be. Suvi had a similar issue and the solidarity was what kept Benji going, if he was honest.

When Reyes told him that ‘Shena’ translated into _mouth_ , he wanted to say something smooth and clever, keep on the man’s level with the flirty back-and-forth but what managed was an awkward laugh.

“I like it,” he said. Like an idiot.

“Well, I’ve never had a complaint,” Reyes told him slyly.

That was about the end of it. They spoke of a few more very boring, very important things and then Benji set his glass on the table carefully so it didn’t make too loud of a sound, and stood up. The alcohol all hit him at once and he felt very pleasantly buzzed yet again. He swayed as it caught him off guard, and then felt Reyes’ hand at the small of his back, steadying him.

“Careful,” he said, far too close to Benji’s ear.

“I’m fine!” Benji responded cheerfully, “I’m good.”

Reyes delivered him outside of the room to where his squadmates were waiting. Tonight, it was Jaal and Peebee.

Jaal gave him a look that was hard to read. Disapproval, he guessed, judgment. Whether it was aimed at Benji himself or at Reyes, though, he wasn’t sure. Peebee was more entertained by it all.

“Having fun without me, Ryder?” she asked, her voice always a little too loud for Benji, but right now it was less noticeable.

“Mhmm!” Benji replied (himself a little too loud), “Want--you want something? I can buy you a drink, too.”

Jaal cleared his throat. “Should we not be getting back to the Tempest?”

Benji was...loosened up enough now to push Jaal’s shoulder playfully. “Lighten up, it’s not _that_ bad here. And Reyes buys good drinks.”

“No, Jaal’s right,” Peebee said with a pout, “ _Lexi_ said she wants to look you over or something after you were screwing around by the acid water all day.”

“Pshhh, no fun,” Benji laughed. He turned back to Reyes and felt like his heart was about to burst. Part alcohol, part remembering how close Reyes was.

He left after a warning from Reyes and an offer that Benji gathered made Reyes a sort of informant, but to him it just meant more excuses to see him again.

On the way back to the Tempest, Peebee talked his ear off about things to check out on Kadara and Jaal stayed near silent the whole ride. He at least seemed to perk up on the Tempest, but his sour attitude about Kadara made Benji opt to avoid him. He hoped Jaal noticed he wasn’t following him around as much and missed him, but he didn’t count on it.

\--

“People are scared, Ryder. This is your opportunity to win friends in Kadara Port.”

Reyes practically bought Benji’s help with his sales pitch, and all he really had to do was lean in and talk to him low and give him that charming smile. And he sounded earnest, like maybe his actions weren’t the most morally flawless but his goals were admirable.

“Sounds like I’m pretty integral to this plan,” Benji said, an attempt to sound coy.

“ _SAM_ is integral,” Reyes clarified, “You’re a bonus.” Slow and sly with that half-smile.

“Hey, I didn’t say yes yet,” Benji teased.

“I feel good about my chances.”

\--

 _‘You_ know _this isn’t a rational decision,’_ Billie’s voice in his imagination spoke to Benji as he sat on the edge of his bed. He rustled through a pile of shirts to find one both relatively clean and comfortable.

“I know, I know about all the red flags and everything,” Benji said under his breath so nobody on the ship could hear him talking to himself, “But I really think he’s good. One of those heart of gold types.”

_‘He can still get you into trouble.’_

“Well I’m not...I don’t have a ton of options,” he said, “I’m not pretty.”

_‘He could be manipulating you.’_

“I guess.”

\--

The supposed Roekaar base was empty when Benji walked in. He was flanked by Jaal on one side and Liam on the other.

With panic already building in his voice, Benji said, “Reyes should be here by now.”

“You like him,” Jaal stated plainly. Benji wasn’t sure if it was accusatory or if he was still just in a bad mood. Or if he was just that blunt about the matter.

“Yeah, keep it in your pants, Ryder,” Liam teased.

Benji turned around with his face burning hot again and started to speak.

“I’m not--I mean that’s--”

The door behind him opened, and he was actually kind of glad for a split second before he realized this meant the Roekaar had noticed them. Then there were guns pointed in their faces again, and Benji took a step back towards his friends.

He tried to reason with them, he really did. Tried to avoid any more bloodshed. But he was never good at a persuasive, logical argument and his words were always too muddled to be some grandiose emotional speech either so mostly he accomplished sounding like a dumbass before the green-skinned Roekaar leader pulled her knife and moved, quick and sleek. Benji reached for his gun and let his biotics flare up but before he even needed to do it, Reyes had arrived.

Heralded by shooting the blade out of the anagaran woman’s hand, Reyes hurried down the steps with a metallic clank-clank-clank and stood at the bottom, right at Benji’s side, taking aim with the (very heroic, in Benji’s opinion) call of, “Not so fast!”

Benji was dazzled, but at the same time, that creeping doubt came loose in him whispering, “You’re late,” to Reyes as he sidled up to him.

“I’ve got a good reason,” Reyes said hastily, “You’ll see in three..”

“Don’t just stand there!” the Roekaar leader cried.

“Two…”

“Kill them!”

The room behind her erupted into flames and Benji looked away as the crowd of Roekaar they’d have to fight was cut down to a quarter of its size.

Reyes gave him a lopsided smile. “Still mad?”

\--

 _‘You did good, Ryder,’_ Reyes had said.

It echoed in Benji’s head as he flopped onto his back. Hung in the air around his bed and made him feel absolutely weak and silly, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

He’d told Reyes they made a good team. He wanted to be subtle, but he wanted to spend time with Reyes again more. No matter how much his friends warned him, or his sister’s imagined voice in his head told him he’d been down this road before and it never ended well. None of it mattered when Reyes replied,

_‘Careful. I’ll start thinking you like me.’_

He’d had a breathy chuckle to his voice and stepped in so close, brushed against Benji and stopped to look him in the eyes (something Benji was rarely any good with, but Reyes had pretty eyes).

Benji said something else dumb, he couldn’t really recall, and Reyes was equally coy. When he left, he said, _‘Don’t be a stranger, Pathfinder.’_

He could’ve been mistaken, but he swore Reyes glanced across Benji’s body as he spoke, looked him up and down in a split second and his expression turned to one of _want._

But he could’ve been mistaken.

Mistaken or not, it was damn near impossible to ignore the thoughts bouncing around in his head, replaying Reyes’ words and drowning out the undertones of his friends’ many warnings. _‘You did good, Ryder.’_

Usually Benji’s fantasies ran towards fiction - he’d pull up some trashy novel on his datapad and pour over his favorite scenes, recycling the most arousing phrases over and over. Fantasizing about real people felt embarrassing somehow, like somebody would just _know_ and he didn’t typically like that. This time, though, Reyes’ voice in his head practically purred, _‘Don’t be a stranger, Pathfinder’_ every time he tried to think of anything else or calm down and by the time the rest of the Tempest was asleep, he was painfully hard and rocking himself into the fabric of his couch. Biting his hand to keep from making noise, alternating between trying to read some filthy book and just thinking about Reyes and how his nickname came to be a word for ‘mouth’.

\--

The next time they met up - for information again - Reyes put Benji on the line for paying for drinks (again) and Benji felt the swell of every person he knew reminding him it was a bad, terrible idea to be involved with this man and he ought to stop ignoring every damn red flag he saw. He _wanted_ to be angry and hurt and ashamed, but what tumbled out was a joke about expecting a favor.

“You’re one person I’ll _happily_ owe something,” Reyes said, smiling and leaning his shoulder against Benji.

He was presumably buttering him up. This was more or less confirmed upon realizing the person they were tracking down was Reyes’ ex-girlfriend, or something close to it. Close enough to make Benji feel cold unease seep into his hands. He couldn’t entirely articulate why.

“Girlfriend’s such a strong word,” Reyes said, eyes darting nervously, “We had drinks occasionally. So-” he coughed and cleared his throat before he asked the bartender where Zia Cordier was to be found.

Benji wasn’t sure if the nervousness made him more or less suspicious. It was...endearing, in a way. And being around Reyes had a way of making the doubts he had feel farther away.

_(And naturally, the cloying loneliness without his family, the shame he kept feeling when his friends reminded him Reyes was shady, the ugly pockmarked face he saw in the mirror leaving him with a pitifully small dating pool.)_

To his credit, Benji demanded answers - asked Reyes if this was just about one-upping his ex. He got teased for being jealous. It was supposed to be flirting, he gathered, but it kind of made him want to cry.

Reyes assured him it was about the cargo, with a genuine smile. He stayed close in Benji’s space.

It made Benji feel better for a while, at least.

When Zia called him selfish, Benji defended him.

“Reyes is a better man than you think,” he said, hoping he looked intimidating but knowing he didn’t.

“Oh, _honey,_ ” she said, smugness somehow laced with genuine pity, “You’ve no idea how wrong you are. But you will.”

\--

Benji’s friends all had their thoughts on Reyes. None of them particularly kind. They ranged from Jaal’s confusion at Benji’s interest to Liam’s tactless teasing to Cora’s heartfelt concern. He didn’t especially like any of it.

Reyes had, well...one friend, but counting ex-girlfriends, Zia made two, and both she and Keema Dohrgun said the same thing.

_(‘You must really like this one, Reyes.’)_

_(‘You’re all he talks about lately.’)_

_(‘He likes you. And he thinks he’s so subtle.’)_

Of course the last one was after Reyes invited him to a party and promptly left him there alone, with pounding music hurting his ears and lights disorienting his vision. A party full of nothing but strangers. The only people he knew here were Umi and Sloane Kelly. He ended up spending most of his time with Keema at first, but when the conversations (or lack thereof) grew awkward and he ran out of things to say, he ended up sitting at Umi’s little bar stand and answering quiz questions to earn drinks.

The _experimental_ drink he tried laid him out on his ass but took surprisingly little time to recover from and he was back to a level of tipsy when he finally got fed up and walked out of the main room of the party to look for Reyes. Find out what he’d ditched him for. He was beginning to think maybe he was brought here as a joke. Or maybe people here wanted a chance for info on the Pathfinder so Reyes lured him. Or he’d find Reyes in a back room tangled up with another gorgeous woman like Zia. That thought _(Reyes solid form nude, maybe he’d have scars, that purr in his voice, but all for someone inevitably attractive and clever and seductive)_ made Benji pause and duck into a bathroom to look himself over in the mirror. It didn’t really make him feel any _less_ self-conscious. He tried to fix his messy brown hair and his hands ran over his acne uncomfortably before SAM’s voice in his head reminded him he had places to be.

_[I believe Mr. Vidal headed to one of the side rooms when we arrived, Pathfinder.]_

“Thanks,” Benji sighed.

He did, in fact, find Reyes in a side room. Knelt down, luckily not at the feet of some other man or something, but instead at a crate in what Benji quickly realized was a storage room. Agonizing over something or other, searching the outside of the crate for whatever it was he needed.

“Damn it,” Reyes mumbled to himself, “Why can’t serial numbers be in the same spot?”

It was just loud enough for Benji to hear. And it was pretty much all he needed to hear at all.

“‘Take the night off, come out for a drink, come as my plus one,’” Benji mocked, trying to sound more angry than upset. “I should’ve known you were up to something.”

Reyes nearly leapt out of his skin and actually landed on his ass by the crate for a second before he jumped to his feet. He put his hands out, like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.

“Ryder!” he said in apparent shock, “I-it’s not what it looks like!”

“It’s not?” Benji asked, crossing his arms and willing himself not to do something embarrassing, “So I’m not...what, a distraction? I should’ve known better than to...ugh.”

“O...okay, yes,” Reyes said, nervously, “You were a distraction, but it’s for both our benefit, I _promise._ ”

“You keep saying that. You’ve been making a lot of promises,” Benji snapped.

Benji almost thought Reyes was lying to shut him up when he cut him off to say, “Shit, someone’s coming! We need a distraction!”

The genuine panic in his eyes and frustration on Benji’s part sold it. He thought about punching him in the stomach, but then Reyes looked almost _frightened_ and Benji’s resolved crumbled. Instead he pushed Reyes back and hooked his hands into his coat, and caught him in a kiss rougher than he really planned. Hot, panting breaths, close enough to feel Reyes’ pulse. Benji wasn’t exactly experienced in sex, but he’d had his fair share of dreadfully awkward make-out sessions. And now he was putting on a show, taking Reyes’ lower lip in his teeth for a second, slipping his hands up to Reyes’ neck. It was hard to stay as angry as he was before when just a kiss with Reyes lit him on fire and then Reyes slipped one arm around Benji’s waist and slid the other hand up to tangle in his short, mousy brown hair. Benji stopped caring about the argument.

Whatever guard came to patrol the back room poked their head in, but when they realized the sound was ostensibly from a pair that snuck away from the party to fool around rather than somebody, say, going through Sloane’s shipments, they quickly apologized for the intrusion and left without another word.

Reyes laughed nervously when he pulled back. He looked flushed, lips parted and a little swollen, eyes a little dazed. “I think we’re in the clear,” he said.

Benji bit his lip and smiled at him, the will to argue about before completely gone.

“Maybe another kiss?” he offered tentatively, then added, “Just to be sure.”

“Now you’re just teasing me,” Reyes laughed.

Benji laughed with him.

\--

“What about you?” Benji asked, passing Reyes the bottle, “Why’d you come here?”

Reyes paused a while, taking a drink and looking around like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell the truth yet. Benji kicked his legs awkwardly on the crate they were sharing from a perch overlooking the cobbled-together mess of neon and garbage that made up Kadara Port.

“To be someone,” he finally answered.

Benji shifted to sit closer.

“You’re someone to me.”

\--

The last red flag should’ve been when Benji asked to talk about the fact that they kissed (twice), and Reyes made some quip about keeping Benji guessing. It should’ve at least given him more pause than it did, but he was only agitated for the rest of the day before Reyes invited him back to Tartarus, this time just to see him.

No Outcasts-versus-Collective talk, no shady plots, no power grabs. Just Reyes offering him drinks and sitting on the couch with him, listening to Benji tell a silly story about his twenty-first birthday and he and Billie sitting on the curb laughing at themselves.

He was drunk, and far too comfortable, so when Reyes pushed him back on the couch and worked his hands up Benji’s shirt, he admitted to him the part of that story where he was still a virgin (a useless concept, but one Benji couldn’t help feeling a bit self-conscious of, if only for the fact that he was liable to embarrass himself with anyone with experience) and Reyes asked if he wanted to stop, or keep clothes on, or something.

Benji said no.

\--

Benji was still reeling, still wildly distracted when he showed up to meet Sloane Kelly at some cave out in the middle of nowhere. Oh, he should’ve been far more interested in the whole affair, sorting out this Charlatan thing should have been his highest priority. Especially with how sick and tired of Kadara his whole crew had gotten - Jaal especially, who never stopped the train of complains about the place and yet also was so put off by the idea of missing something that he came along on every mission thus far. But Benji couldn’t really give a damn when he was still thinking about Reyes Vidal’s arms around him, how much time he spent on patient foreplay and working Benji up. His thoughts drifted to Reyes’ dick in him a little more often than they needed to for his professional Pathfinder career, but hey, he figured he deserved it after all the bullshit he’d been through.

He shook the thoughts from his mind as he followed Sloane into the dark. A few of them remained, keeping him pleasantly distracted, right up until the world fell out from under his feet when he heard a familiar line from the shadows.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

Things started to go blurry after that, a fuzzy panic gathered in Benji’s chest and he felt his pulse quicken, praying to whatever was out there that someone else would step out into the light in the center of the cave. But his luck had evidently run out, as Reyes Vidal materialized in front of them. He looked determined, calm, indifferent.

Benji still called out his name, still unable to fully process it.

“I’m here for the Charlatan,” Sloane stated, unimpressed, “Not some third-rate smuggler.”

The pieces fell together in Benji’s head and once they did, he couldn’t take them back apart.

“That’s the Charlatan,” he said weakly, “They’re one and the same.”

“Surprise,” Reyes said.

Benji couldn’t read his face, but maybe he didn’t need to. He wanted to scream, wanted to sob and hit Reyes and ask him, _‘Why the fuck did you do this? I trusted you I cared for you I could’ve loved you You didn’t have to lie or use me but you did-’_ and he wanted to hit himself, too. Swirling thoughts that felt like one massive novel of insults aimed at himself, all in his head at once.

_(Stupid, stupid, stupid, you should’ve known, everybody told you he was bad news and watch all the red flags come into focus and tell you that you should’ve known this whole time he’d only break your dumb, easy heart. Why else would he give you attention when you look like shit and you can’t dress yourself and you can’t function like a normal adult? Should’ve listened-)_

All he managed to say, desperately struggling and failing to keep his voice calm and his eyes dry was, “This whole time you were lying to me.”

“Not about everything,” Reyes told him softly, momentarily ignoring Sloane Kelly, “You know who I _really_ am-”

“Shut up,” Sloane said, “I don’t care about your personal drama. You said you wanted to settle things. How?”

Benji wasn’t really listening when Reyes gave her the terms of the duel. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back through watery eyes to see Jaal, arguably the last person he wanted to see him like this but the gesture was kind. He’d later realize how much it mirrored him doing the same for Jaal, back at the Kett facility on Voeld.

He also didn’t really listen when SAM spoke up in his head, quicker than he usually heard the AI speak, to warn him about the sniper in the dark. He didn’t _want_ to let the sniper kill Sloane, really, he didn’t want any of this. But he was completely frozen, the world grey and foggy, trying to focus on anything but the sharp spike in his chest and barrage of self-inflicted insults.

When Sloane stopped breathing, the first thing Reyes did was speak to the people he’d had hiding throughout the cave, giving orders and telling them with no small amount of pride at his work that Kadara Port was _theirs_ tonight.

Benji tried to walk away, didn’t want to listen to any of it.

“Ryder!” Reyes called out, making him flinch. He followed closely, reaching for Benji’s arm.

Benji wrenched away from him and kept walking until he reached daylight, desperately needing out of the stale cave air. Reyes followed him.

“Ryder, I-”

“What?” Benji demanded, raising his voice more than he wanted to, “You do this to me and you can’t even use my first name?”

“Wh...A-alright, Benji,” Reyes said, that nervous tinge to his voice that sounded painfully real.

“No, whatever, nevermind,” Benji choked, “You got everything you wanted, so. Go fucking celebrate.”

Reyes tried to start some spiel about peace. His plans for Kadara. Benji wasn’t listening, and fuck him for expecting Benji to be able to process any of it anyways after what just happened.

Benji wanted to look firm and demanding, but he’d been crying since not long after Reyes stepped into the light, no doubt his face was red and puffy and disgusting. He probably looked so pathetically sad.

Reyes reached out for him, a cautious attempt to touch his face, but Benji shrank back and shook his head quickly.

“Just...tell me why you lied to me. Why didn’t you tell me?” his voice raised as he spoke, “Y-you could’ve...could’ve told me, why didn’t you trust me? _I_ trusted _you_!”

“Oh, no,” Reyes said, shaking his head and looking so damned honest in that moment that Benji almost felt bad for yelling, “No, Benji...it wasn’t that, I only...I liked the way you looked at me.”

“What?”

“Like I was a good man,” Reyes said. His voice grew much quieter, “Someone worth loving. I was afraid this would change that.”

Benji almost wanted to forgive him when he heard it. It was all very convincing, and maybe this was his only chance, but...he glanced back at Jaal and Cora in the main chamber of the cave. Sloane’s lifeless body being bagged up by the Collective members. All the red flags now giant blaring warning sirens in his head.

Through tears, he coughed out, “You’re not the man I thought you were.”

Reyes only nodded, but the face he wore was one of terrible resignation. He reached his hand out like he wanted to touch Benji, then dropped it.

“I wanted to be.”

\--

They’d work with the Collective. Reyes sent word to meet Benji in person, a request which Benji avoided every time it came through. He also sent messages just asking to talk. Asking for a chance to explain himself, for forgiveness. None of it made Benji feel any better and when he wasn’t busy helping the Initiative set up its newest outpost, he holed up in his room on the Tempest and kept his headphones on so he didn’t have to hear his crewmates or the _ping!_ when a message came through.

He held it together for a little while, which was a feat for him, but on the last day before they departed from Kadara, a delivery showed up to the Tempest, brought by some Collective person Benji had never met before.

When he sat on the floor of his room and opened it up, he saw a familiar bottle nestled carefully in the box. Mount Milgrom. Triple-distilled and….some massive amount of years old. Half the bottle was left after he shared it with Reyes atop some crates in Kadara Port.

The floodgates opened and he shoved the box across the floor, only hearing it catch on the edge of his bed and the bottle clattered out and rolled to the window. He sat there on the cold floor of his far-too-big Pathfinder quarters and cried into his hands. Deep, racking cries that made him sound like he had pneumonia, coughing and sputtering between sobs, with only the awareness to tell SAM to lock his door so his team couldn’t check on him even if they heard him.

\--

He lapsed in and out of meltdowns about the situation, sometimes calming down more. But a few days later, en route to the Nexus to resupply and service the Tempest, Benji received another message from Reyes. This one was simple.

 

[ **Friends?**

 

 **To:** Benjamin Ryder

 **From:** Reyes Vidal

 

I’m not a very good one, but I’d rather have your friendship than nothing at all.

 

Reyes ]

 

He wasn’t sure what set him off there. Maybe the blunt apparent honesty of it. The fact that Reyes valued him at least that much. Enough to let him go. It left Benji wondering if he made the right call, but then it still felt like a bolt in his chest when he thought about the way Reyes betrayed him. Another when he remembered just how important Reyes had been to him, and that night together.

Regardless, it left Benji dropping the datapad to the floor and sitting on his bed, face in his hands to muffle his sobs. He felt gross and pathetic again, covered in tears and sitting there with his headphones on listening to a sad playlist he’d cooked up in his calmer moments.

He nearly screamed when the door to his room opened. He’d forgotten to lock it and it slid open with a _hiss_ to reveal none other than Jaal’s distinctive form standing in the hallway, hand to his omni-tool. An expression of dreadful concern was clear on his face. Benji really, really didn’t want to see him. He didn’t want another reminder that he was an unattractive disaster pretty much only good for whatever benefits his Pathfinder position incurred. But the look in Jaal’s eyes was so fucking worried.

“Jaal--shit,” Benji hiccupped, trying to wipe his face, “I’m sorry. Sorry, I shouldn’t be...I should be acting my age.”

“Nonsense,” Jaal said. He stepped into the room, reaching out.

Benji flinched and shook his head. “No, no, I’m the--the fucking _Pathfinder,_ I’m supposed to be better than this. Not some...gullible child who lets the shadiest guy he meets fuck him and then cries over him for days. I have to-”

“Ryder,” Jaal rumbled softly.

“-I can’t just be like this! I’m making an ass of myself  and I hate it but I can’t-”

“ _Benji,_ ” Jaal said, firmer this time.

It threw Benji for a moment to hear his name. So many people just called him Ryder, like they couldn’t quite accept that it wasn’t his father there instead. He paused and looked up at Jaal, momentarily quieted.

“Benji, he hurt you. What he did...was terrible, he betrayed your trust and manipulated your feelings for him.” Jaal stepped closer, putting a warm hand on Benji’s shoulder. “You have every right to be upset when you’ve had your heart broken. Do not deny yourself that.”

Benji broke again, but this time it felt different. Less like a flood washing over him and more like a pressure release, and when he began to sob again he wrapped his arms around Jaal’s middle and pressed his face so tightly into his friend’s chest that it almost hurt. Jaal simply held him in return, rubbing gentle patterns on his back.

He didn’t really know when he’d start to feel alright again, but for the moment, this was...better.

He wasn’t healed, but he had started to.

**Author's Note:**

> fic title is from [Piledriver Waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OrUqC6zZk94) ! will i ever write a fic that doesn't use song titles or lyrics? who knows
> 
> feedback keeps this sad bitch alive so i LOVE comments & kudos
> 
> disclaimer: i actually rly love reyes so don't take this as bashing him or somethin. but benji would not be okay w/ staying with him :'/ 
> 
> xoxo hannah


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